


The Teacher

by rmoors



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rmoors/pseuds/rmoors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1986 and through a series of lies Remus has got himself a job as a teacher at his local primary school. Unbeknownst to him, this happens to be the school that (you guessed it!) a young and isolated Harry Potter attends with his thuggish cousin, Dudley. Can Remus and Harry save each other from loneliness or will the fragile world Remus has built for himself come tumbling down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! You may recognise this from ff.net where I started (and will continue) to write this fic. I've decided to also post this here because firstly, there are a few edits that need to be made and this is the best way to get feedback on that as I go and secondly because editing chapters on ff.net is frankly an arduous bloody undertaking. So yes, thought I'd give AO3 a go.
> 
> I'll upload a couple of chapters which I've already gone through immediately then do the rest at about one a week whilst I edit them. Please do let me know what you think!

The joints in Remus' knees creaked as he forced himself up the next staircase, leaning heavily on the handrail that was on the verge of coming out of the wall. One more flight, he told himself, gritting his teeth. It was getting worse, he was certain.

Every month he did this walk and every time it was worse. First there was the dull pain, gnawing determinedly into his deep sleep, intensifying until he was forced into the painful shock of consciousness. Then there was the ten minutes he'd spend curled up in a ball on the frigid concrete floor, shivering but too hurt to move to get dressed. His hands would finally uncurl from themselves and rasp across the rough floor to where he'd left his clothes. Dressing was agonising but the warmth that came as its reward was worth anything. Then it was time to stumble out into the blinding light of the dull, grey morning, locking the metal door behind him. He'd discovered the disused concrete building when he'd first moved into the area and it had proved invaluable. It was set a little way from the reclaimed council estate he lived on and used to be where the generator, circuit boards and other stuff with lots of wires (he didn't claim to be an expert on what exactly these were) were kept and was consequently covered in bright yellow stickers warning people to keep out. The generator was long gone now though, so with a few added wards the place was safe to transform in without danger of escape, discovery or electrocution.

After sneaking out, he'd then walk past the young lads who sat on the low wall outside the estate smoking and throwing dark looks at him before he reached the graffiti covered stairwell. Then there were the flights upon flights of increasingly insurmountable stairs and then finally, finally the comparative haven that was Remus' flat.

It was a one-bedroom affair with a small dingy kitchen, a living room furnished with previous tenants unwanted furniture and a lightly moulding bathroom. Remus called it minimalist when he was feeling generous; a shit hole when he wasn't. But it was home and that was what really mattered. It was somewhere to sleep and eat and that's all he really needed.

He'd been living in the muggle world for a while. It was better than the constant pitying glances or the suspicious looks when he missed yet another day of work. Here, he was nobody, just that shabby looking bloke who lives at number 115. He liked it that way. But there was no escaping the fact that he was impoverished. He'd gotten jobs, he'd lost jobs, same as always but this had been a long period of unemployment even by his fairly low standards. Qualifications, that was the problem. He had a rather impressive set of them but unfortunately none that could be applied in the muggle world, so consequently it was dead end jobs or nothing.

It was infinitely frustrating.

Day in, day out, he would wake up at 7.30, go to some unrewarding, unstimulating ball-ache of a job and spend the next eight hours stacking shelves, or assembling parts, or flipping burgers in some undignified uniform that would have had James cackling in delight. He was bored. And worse than that, he had no one to share that boredom with. Which was why, when his grandmother, a muggle, suggested he did something with himself and become a teacher or something (she'd also suggested fireman, doctor, lawyer, priest and astronaut. Privately, Remus thought she just wanted him to stop coming to her house, eating all her chocolate and complaining about work.), he leapt at the idea.

He was good with children, patient and knew the basics. It was a job that carried a reward beyond money. It was a new start. So he lied. He applied for a job and he lied. According to his application he had: nine O levels; seven at A, two at B; Three A levels; all at an A grade; a second-class degree from the University of Bristol in history and had also achieved Qualified Teacher Status. It was all absolute bollocks and he loved it.

It sparked a feeling of gnawing excitement deep inside him that he hadn't felt since he, Sirius, James and Peter had been causing mayhem in Hogwarts. Of course, it required forgeries of many documents, all of which was not only hugely illegal but also completely immoral and, if he were caught, would lead to prison and accusations far worse than 'werewolf'. But he wouldn't be caught because he was _good_ at that sort of thing. It shamed him to say it, and he in no way meant it as a boast, but he was a _brilliant_ liar. He could lie for England. Sirius… no, Black, he reminded himself… had told him it was the lethal combination of his soft Yorkishire accent and his ability to look earnest whilst telling the most barefaced of lies. It had gotten them out of trouble on countless occasions, solely because the teachers seemed to find it inconceivable that Remus Lupin, Gryffindor prefect, would lie to them. And it was for that reason that Remus knew he could, and would, get away with it.

So he forged his documents and applied for a job. He'd gotten to the interview stage much to his delight and fared well, fabricating his "wonderful" experiences as a teacher's assistant but speaking quite honestly about his desire to teach and do something truly valuable. He couldn't say if it had done well enough to get him the job however. Now it was just a waiting game. It wasn't until he dragged himself through his front door that fateful morning that he saw the reply. 

There, lying innocuously on the doormat, was his future.

With trembling hands he picked the letter up and limped to the sagging sofa, collapsing onto it with an audible sigh of relief. He turned the envelope over a few times in his hands, chewing his lower lip before he took a deep breath and picked the envelope open. As with all long awaited letters, he didn't read it properly, just scanned it, searching desperately for the words that would make or break him.

_Mr Lupin… Thank you… application… St. Grogory's Primary…much consideration… many candidates… competitive… uniquely qualified… we are pleased…_

YES.

There it was. _We are pleased_. Merlin, what beautiful words. He read it properly then, savouring each word, unable to keep the grin off his face. Finally, something to make it all worth it. It wasn't friends, it wasn't family but it was opportunity and Remus was done waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, it would be great to hear from you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter as promised. Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

Harry stared up at the cobwebs on the ceiling, tracing their thousands of interwoven strands with his eyes, fascinated by the symmetry of the spider's creation. He'd never been scared of spiders… or perhaps he had been once, but he'd grown out of it now. Either way, he wasn't scared of them, not like Dudley. He liked them really.

He watched one move stealthily across its creation, hidden in the corner of his cupboard.

He thought it would be quite nice to be a spider really, being able to build a home just like that in a safe little corner somewhere.

Thundering footsteps from above sent the web shaking, dislodging the arachnid. Harry let it scuttle into his hand and returned it to its home.

Maybe not so safe then.

His door was opened with a crash and a large hand reached blindly in, grasping for Harry's arm and dragging him out.

"Bathroom, now." His uncle hissed. "School starts in thirty minutes and I will not have you making Dudley late." He shoved Harry hard towards the stairs, sending him into a brief stumble before he found his footing.

Harry hated this day. He was in year two now so he knew what the first day was like. Dudley would get a sloppy kiss on the cheek from Aunt Petunia and hair ruffle from Uncle Vernon, while Harry would get a glare and a stern warning against any 'funny business'. He never knew what that meant. Then he'd sit down and no one on his table would talk to him because Dudley would hit anyone who did. So he'd keep his head down and work on his numbers and letters, even though he found them hard and everyone else was laughing and talking around him. Last year, Miss Lyons always gave him a sticker and wrote well done on his work but she was teaching year three now and not him.

Playtime was the worst though. He wasn't allowed to sit inside, so he had to go outside where he'd spend every break and lunch hiding from Dudley and his friends who would always chase him or call him names if they saw him. So he normally just stood at the edge in the shadows and hoped he wasn't found until it was time to line up to go back inside.

Then it was more lessons until finally the day was over and Aunt Petunia would collect him and Dudley from the playground, giving Dudley another kiss and him another glare.

And that was why he hated first days at school. It always led to second days. Then third.

* * *

Remus was nervous. He kept telling himself he had nothing to fear, after all, these were six year olds, not death eaters, but anxiety was nevertheless unavoidable. He'd done his best to be prepared. He'd studied his predecessors lesson plans, ensured he was confident in his own knowledge and dressed in his best trousers and shirt, but left off a tie and a jacket; he wanted to look presentable but not formal. None of that quelled his nerves though. He'd lied about his qualifications and, under his own volition, been chucked in at the deep end. He had no idea how to teach and more pressingly, no idea how to control a room of thirty boisterous six year olds.

He glanced at the clock above the colourful display of children's drawing adorning the back wall of the classroom. Five minutes to nine. Time to collect the children. He walked outside, squaring his shoulders and trying to exude confidence as he saw the playground full of children slowly forming themselves into lines. Children could smell fear apparently. Or perhaps that was dogs.

"Year two!" He called. "Line up in front of me please."

And, much to his surprise, they did. He allowed himself a small smile. Maybe this would be okay. He noted everyone seemed to be lined up.

"Alright, if everyone could follow me, please."

And again, they did. He felt like a mother duck leading the chattering group down the school's corridors to his classroom.

He instructed them to sit on the carpet at the front of the room while he stood next to his desk.

"Good morning, I'm Mr Lupin." He said to them with a smile.

"Good morning Mr Lupin!" They chorused back.

_Merlin, this was easy._

"I'm going to take the register quickly, then we can get on with the day. Please let me know if I say your name wrong."

Blank faces stared back at him.

_Right._

"Erm… Finbar?"

"Just Fin, Sir." Said a small red haired boy. Remus nodded, noting, ' _Fin'_  on the register.

"Just Fin, it is. Sarah?"

"Here, Sir." A blonde girl with rather thick glasses said timidly.

"Dudley?" He asked, looking around expectantly.

"Yeah." Said a sullen voice from the back, belonging to a fat, pink faced blonde boy.  _Keep an eye on that one,_ thought Remus. He looks like bully bait. Overweight children were often teased in his experience- his experience being watching Sirius and James rather systematically wind Peter up about his weight. 'Pudgey Pete' they called him. All in good fun of course, but Remus saw the hurt in Peter's eyes when James and Sirius moved on to a new target.

But no, it wouldn't do to get caught up in the past now. This was his new start and this boy was not Peter but Dudley Dursley.

"Ashraf?"

"Yes, Sir."

And so on and so forth. He wondered how long it was going to take him to put a name to every face. He and no idea how teachers managed it really. He hoped he'd pick it up eventually.

He glanced down at his register again.

 _Harry_. Merlin, exactly what he needed. A Harry in his class. He checked the surname out of habit he supposed. 

He blinked hard.

_Harry Potter._

It had to be coincidence. Potter was a common enough name, of course. But Harry would be six now…

He cleared his throat.

"H-Harry?" He scanned the room looking for the name's owner.

"Here, Sir." Said a meek voice from the back of the room, so far in a corner he'd missed him all together.

He froze. Jet black messy hair, a thin face, glasses. The boy was a young James. But those eyes. Big, green and unmistakably those of Lily Evans… or Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should get the next chapter all sorted within the week. Hope you're all enjoying the story so far!


End file.
